


Points of Authority

by Aeacus, IbisVilen



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Lifeguards, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Drama, M/M, Old Relationships, Punk John, Shota Impersonator, Supposed to be a oneshot, motorcycle, non sburb au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-01-14 23:20:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1282456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeacus/pseuds/Aeacus, https://archiveofourown.org/users/IbisVilen/pseuds/IbisVilen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: A summer lifeguard position is supposed to be easy. Or at least that's what Dave thought when he took the job. But a certain punk ass kid is making it harder than necessary. Especially when Dave finally figures out John's intentions (and age).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rated Explicit. This is a lifeguard AU that was supposed to be another oneshot but developed a plot. Will eventually include smut, drama, asshole!ginger!Bro, bullying, assault, Jake, Rose, and more.

This kid is going to be the end of you. He keeps doing this stupid shit and you keep falling for it. You swear he is only doing this to get you wet. There are just enough people at the neighborhood pool that you have to pay attention to everything and because of your training, you react to the 'danger' before identifying who it is. You always figure it out when he starts laughing as you reach him. He doesn't stop laughing even as you drag him out of the water and sit him in timeout for pulling this 'prank' for the fifth time this week. You are starting to think that making him sit next to you through the next adult swim isn't quite an effective punishment for him as the kid has been pulling his stunt right after you call kids' swim.

It always surprises (and scares) you how long the stupid kid can hold his breath whether it's just floating face down on the surface or kinda lodged down at the bottom. This last one had you thinking that he was honestly stuck back down there and you jumped in without really thinking how you'd actually get him back up. Of course he hadn't been stuck and simply let you drag him back to the surface. His laughter was the first thing you heard when you reached air. He let you drag him to the shallow end of the pool and then wrapped himself around you as you trudged across towards the stairs.

You don't know why you let that happen seeing as you should be pissed at him, but you feel kinda disappointed when he lets go before it gets too awkward in the three foot deep area.

"You know the drill, brat. Gotta sit up by me for the next," you glance over at the clock, "forty-five minutes."

He nods and beams up at you with a dorky cheesy grin that just shows off his large buck teeth. "Yes, sir, Mr. Lifeguard, sir."

Oh god, that makes you feel old.

"Dave. Just call me Dave. None of that sir or mister shit."

"John."

"What?"

"I mean, I guess you could keep calling me brat or kid, but my name is John."

You narrow his eyes at him as the two of you settle down onto your stand. The bench is wide enough that you both fit even with an inch or two between you. Your wet t-shirt clings to your chest and the sun makes it nice and humid, even under the umbrella covering the stand. You'd like to stretch out and let it dry off a little better (since corporate rules say you can't actually take it off despite being at the pool surrounded by shirtless people who are much less attractive than you), but your buddy, John, is kinda in the way.

"Whatever," you huff at him and go back to scanning the waters.

The kid is quiet like usual. Back at his age, you'd be running your mouth as fast as you'd be running from Bro if he caught you in trouble with the lifeguard. Now the kid doesn't have someone like Bro as their guardian -no one has someone like Bro as their guardian except poor you- but you still have to wonder where his mom or dad is. You've never seen him with anyone really and he's always appeared at the pool and then snuck off without you paying attention to who he is with. You've seen him hanging out with a couple of the kids of various ages in a couple of group games, but never just with someone. Makes you wonder.

"How old are you?"

“Huh?”

“How old are you, brat?”

“Eighteen.”

“No, seriously, how old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

“It’s not cute to lie, kid.”

“I’m not lying. I’m eighteen.”

“And I’m Santa.”

“Can I sit in your lap then?”

“No. Goddamn no. I’m not letting a lying trouble making little kid sit on my lap. I’m not a perv.”

“And I’m not underaged. Do I have to go get my driver’s license and show you? You’d have to let me out of time out though.”

“It’s probably a fake.”

“A fake? For being eighteen? Wouldn’t I just go for twenty-one?”

“I’m not buying that you are eighteen and no respectable bouncer would call you twenty-one. No unrespectable bouncer would call you twenty-one.”

“Why would I even need a fake for being eighteen? Still can’t buy anything with that.”

“Cigarettes. Adult stores. Lotto tickets.”

“Not in Arizona. I don’t smoke. And I’ve only been dragged into one once. For my birthday. I hate my friends sometimes.”

That gets a chuckle out of you. John beams at the noise like he just got handed a trophy for being the dorkiest little shit on the planet. You honestly can’t believe that he is eighteen. You want to call his bluff.

“Get your fucking driver’s license. I want to see if I can guess how much the fake cost you.”

He fucking scampers down off of the tower and goes over to his towel laid out on one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs that get scorching hot if not covered with a towel and lord help you if you put your feet down on a spot that hasn’t been covered with a towel. He pulls up his bag, a pretty nice almost professional backpack and rummages through it for presumably the card in question. That’s when you notice the motorcycle helmet sitting next to him. There is no one else sitting in that vicinity.

Your attention is distracted by a shout at the other end of the pool and you have to do a couple scans of the water which reveal everything is fine and dandy and in perfect order without any pranksters giving you a heart attack by floating lifelessly around.

“Here you go!” You do not startle out of your seat when the card is shoved into your face without any ceremony. You absolutely ignore his giggles as you take it and he returns to his seat.

You look over the small laminated card. John Egbert, not Jonathan. Age 18. Appropriate date of birth in the middle of April that somehow corresponds with him being legal for almost four months now. Height: 5’ flat. Weight: 100 lbs. Hair: Black, like a raven’s wing or Bro’s soul. Eyes: Blue, like the summer sky on those really fucking hot days that you crave any sort of cloud cover before you get instant cancer. You scrape at the edges and run your thumb over the raised signature. You tilt it back and the holograph looks real enough. Either this is the real thing or a stupidly expensive fake. But as John mentioned, who would want a fake for being eighteen.

“Well shit.”

“Told you so.”

“Shut up, you are still in time out.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I am older than you and in charge. Also you are a little shit.”

“It doesn’t matter that you are like seven years older than me, I’m still an adult.”

Oh no he didn’t. “Listen here, you twink, I am not twenty-five. I’m twenty-one. Still in fucking college.”

“Oh that explains the low wage summer job,” John tilts his head back and leans on his elbows. You are two seconds away from punching his face in. “Skia University, right? I’m going there in the fall.”

Great now the pipsqueak is going to be stalking you even after you escape this hellish job that Bro forced you to get. What did he want with you anyways? He obviously can swim. He should have outgrown his brat stage a couple years ago even if he hasn’t gone through puberty. He keeps pretending to be drowning so you have to jump in and save him, getting soaked and uncomfortable... in your white t-shirt... and making him sit up next to you... This fucker. Is he hitting on you?

You use your shades to surreptitiously glance over at him and find him not looking at you like you were expecting. What the hell, Dave? Of course he’s not hitting on you. He just happens to have volunteered to be your personal demon.

You softly shake your head and scan the pool again.

A cool breeze comes by coinciding with a cloud passing in front of the sun and for once during this miserable hellish summer, you are chilled. Again you mentally curse John for making you get in the water, but you can’t fight the shiver that goes through you. Suddenly there is a warmth against your side. You don’t turn to look because there is only one explanation for such as thing. The warmth spreads to a line of heat across your back that you recognize as an arm going around your waist.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“You have goosebumps.”

You finds yourself speechless despite it being within the range of answers you were expecting.

“I thought that since I was up here in ‘time out’ that I could help out. I’m usually really warm all the time, and this shirt is pretty cold on you.”

You still can’t say anything because despite all the cheese that you can almost smell, it does actually seem to be working as you don’t shiver on the next breeze.

As you scan the pool again doing your lifeguard duties, you trace back through your thoughts. That possibility that he is hitting on you surfaces again and looks to be a bit more valid. You don’t have concrete proof yet- No, what is this ‘yet’ business, he can’t be hitting on you and you can’t even be entertaining the possibility that he is hitting on you or that you might enjoy the fact that he is hitting on you because no. He looks like he’s maybe fourteen. He didn’t react to being called a twink, probably because that is the most accurate term anyone could possibly come up for him except maybe shota. See that’s the exact reason you can’t be thinking about how you feel towards him. You can’t be thinking about how good his arm feels around you. How soft his skin was when you pulled him out of the water. How he would feel in your arms... Shit fuck no.

“So, I’ve never stayed until the end of your shift. How long do you usually keep the pool open?”

“Nine to five. Like the commercial job I’ll be shuffled into once I manage to survive the gauntlet of courses demanded by the exalted professors at our esteemed college who strive to churn out productive little robots who feed into society’s mechanisms like little cogs that will work until they die and then are replaced by an identical younger cog.”

What, no, you don’t ramble when you are nervous.

He fucking giggles again at you so you turn away and watch the baby toddle towards the edge of the pool and into their protective parent’s arms.

“Five isn’t that bad. I could hang around until then.”

“Why?” Oops, that meant to stay inside your head as you kinda don’t want to know the answer because you think you know what it will be but you are not sure if you will be disappointed or not if you are wrong.

“Well, I thought I would repay the favor of you saving my life and give you a ride on my motorcycle.”

“Adult swim!” You announce and then blow on your whistle.

“You are like fifteen minutes early you know.”

“Get off my tower.”

“Time out goes through adult swim.”

Instead of trying to argue you leap off the stand and bustle about doing other lifeguard duties such as checking the pH again or straightening up the nets or chasing the wasp away from the bathrooms, all the while dodging from shade to shadow to keep out of the sun as much as possible. He’s still there grinning stupidly at you by the time you circle back to him.

“Why?” you whine at him.

“Since you are such a stickler for rules and you seem to think I'm underaged, I just thought you might want to make sure I'm capable of driving that motorcycle by myself."

“I didn’t even know you had a motorcycle. You’d prolly look more at home on a seven speed with tassels hanging off the end of the handlebars.”

“It’s a nice bike. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“Get off my tower.”

“I’ll hang out until five so you can give me your answer.” He climbs down the tower and as he looks up at your face, the foot height difference is painfully apparent. But you really can’t look away from those smiling blue eyes. “Okay, Dave?”

“Fine.” You have to look away otherwise you might end up punching him. In the face. With your li- You can hear your brother cringing at the cliche as you climb into your seat and whistle to let all the kids, and not-kid-but-twink John, back into the water.

As you do your usual sweeps of the pool, checking all corners, stairs, floats, patrons, hot twinks- God damn it. Now that you know that he’s not just a brat and that he might be interested in you he is on your radar. A radar that had no blips all summer but is now focused on his skinny ass in those blue swim trunks. He’s not even that muscular. Just skinny hairless arms covered in that creamy soft tan skin that you wouldn’t mind- fuck. Fuck all this.

Despite your mental lashings at your apparent newly found libido, you can’t help but admire the way he slips through the water as he does laps up and down the pool. He may be short but he is well proportioned and makes up for it in speed in the water. And you seem to really have a thing for the way he comes up out of the water with his hair slicked back. It's really not fair. But you are thankful that he is moving back and forth along the length of the pool so your scans aren't that interrupted.

Stupid kid.

You glance over at the clock. You have three hours left of your shift. Three hours of watching this brat-turned-siren frolick in your pool. You are pretty sure you, or someone you are supposed to be watching, are going to die.


	2. Chapter 2

True to his word, John sticks around until five o'clock. You can't really understand why John always hopped out of the pool whenever you called adult swim, but it only reinforced the young image of him that you have which just makes you feel like a creep for even entertaining what might happen after the promised motorcycle ride. He doesn't come around to bother you during these breaks though, instead choosing to play with the kids as their parents banish them to the shade with decks of cards.

Except this last one. He seems to do his disappearing act as you do your final checks and say your goodbyes to the remaining family. They have a cute little girl who would drown smiling if her parents looked away for a moment. Thankfully she usually has two out of three watchful pair of eyes on her at all times.

Maybe he already left and he won’t ask you again to ride on his motorcycle. You are already having a small crisis over the fact that he is eighteen instead of fourteen. It still feels natural to call him brat or kid even though apparently you are only three years older than him. And on top of that he might have a crush on you. It’s kinda hard to tell because of his childish demeanor. And you really don’t want to have a crush on him. You are feeling creeptastic at the idea. You glance around one final time without seeing him before you grab your stuff and head to the changing rooms.

You aren’t even to the bench yet when you start stripping out of your shirt. You hate the damn thing. You wish you could take it off so you don’t get an awkward farmer’s tan made of freckles instead of actual tan, but apparently your lifeguard company does drive-by spot-checks and you really don’t want to think about what Bro would do to you if you got fired from this lousy job. Especially for the lame reason of not wearing a shirt.

The shirt is actually fairly dry so it doesn’t make the satisfying thump you were looking for when you tossed it away. You grab your pants and duck behind the curtain and make quick work of changing between the red swim trunks into some much more comfortable jeans. You hate how bony your legs are and how short the trunks are. Jeans are the much better option. In fact, you sigh happily as you button them up. You toss the trunks at the shirt as well and go to reach for a fresh shirt when you hear,

“Finally.”

You’re eyes snap up and your brain shuts off.

First of all, the square glasses that don’t hide those blue blue blue eyes at all give him back at least three years. The leather jacket gives him another which brings it up to a nice round legal. The worn and loved leather jacket hangs open over a slim blue shirt with some band print that is flaking off enough that you’re not sure of the original spelling of the band you’ve never heard of but think you should have. Leather fingerless gloves that remind you of the brother you are definitely not thinking about cover hands that are tucked into the front pockets of distressed jeans that you think might have been legitimately scuffed up living life instead of the clothes factory. And boots. Real motorcycle styled urban kick ass boots. You might not really care about shoes but those could make you shoe-sexual.

“I didn’t think I would ever get that shirt off of you.” You shiver as you remember that you don’t have a shirt on. Or maybe it’s the predatory tone in his voice.

“Uh... what?” Very eloquent, Strider. Very nice.

“I’ve been trying to get you to take off that shirt all week. But you never took it off even when dripping wet and chilly.”

“Company policy.”

“Oh. Damn.”

“Wait. You were faking the need to be rescued just to try to get me to take off my shirt?”

“A little silly in retrospect actually. Especially when I apparently could have gotten a free show for just hanging out in the changing room.” John shrugs the accusation off as he approaches you. You didn’t realize you had been standing so close to the wall until your shoulders hit it as he comes pretty inside your personal space. “And what a show it is,” you have no other words to describe how he said that except ‘purr.’ He fucking purred that line at you and you are falling for it. You think he also notices how your breath caught in your throat. But that’s alright because you think you can steal his breath as it brushes across your lips.

The back of your mind manages to kick start itself just enough to muse about the thickness of his soles and how much you’re slouching if just by tipping his head up and having your head droop forward closes the distance between the two of you so much. It probably also helps that his hands are on your shoulders after having slid lightly up your chest and are now pulling the two of you closer together. The same functioning processes jump to the thought that maybe you had seen him leaving the pool before but there is no way in hell you would have recognized him without the explicit connection between dorky twinktastic kid in swim trunks to this punk rock incubus about to kiss you.

Wait, scratch that. This punk rock incubus kissing you.

And wow he can kiss. His lips are soft as they press against yours. They are warm and pliable and fit against yours like they are supposed to be there. Your hands instinctively come up and rest on his hips where his jacket has pulled up. The hem of his shirt is just at the top of his jeans and your fingers find the skin in between. His fingers are moving too, slipping up the back of your neck and up to your hair. And god that feels good. He runs his fingernails over your scalp and you might have just moaned against his lips because you can feel them turn up in a smile.

He presses his whole body against you as he runs his tongue over your lips and how can you reject an invitation like that. The kiss opens up and it is the best thing you've tasted all summer. Spun sugar, seaside breezes, light spritz of citrus. You don't know how that's possible. All you know is that you like it and you think you convey that as you pull him closer to you.

The kiss is amazing. Even if he is pulling himself up to meet you and actually pulling you down a little, it’s still one of the best kisses you’ve ever had. A part of your brain that really needs to shut up is still reeling from the fact that John has gone from a nameless troublemaking prankster brat to this warm soft creature that you just want to hold onto and kiss forever. You think that he might be inclined towards that as well with how he’s pushing you into the wall and how his hands still haven’t moved from your hair and how your lungs are just slightly burning from the lack of oxygen. But you can’t break the kiss yet and just tip your head further to the side to get more of his mouth against yours. The tip of his tongue runs lightly across the top of your teeth as yours slides alongside. You wonder how he got so good at kissing and then you remember that he’s not a little kid but eighteen. Your brain, body, and dick apparently seem on board even if this is a flaming bus to hell. You don’t think you are ever letting go.

Well you wouldn’t let go except that the two of you really do need to breathe and he starts the disengaging process, finishing with a cute kiss against your lips that smacks like all the cartoons and romance novels. He pulls back far enough with his upper torso to look up at you with those expressive blue eyes that seem to be a lot deeper than they are supposed to be. His lower half is still pressed against you and you a briefly glad that there are a couple layers between you and him so that you don’t feel like the horny pervert you are and he can’t feel it either.

“Wow, okay, that was better than I had hoped,” he tells you in a breathless voice that’s a little deeper than his usual.

“And how long have you been hoping?” You’re voice is also a bit husky and from the way his hips jolt against your thigh, you think he likes that.

“All summer.”

Damn that just did things to the butterflies in your stomach. “Really? I mean, quite the torch, dork.”

“What can I say? I’m attracted to a man in uniform.” The cheesy grin he gives you is really upsetting those butterflies. You need to do something about them. They are going to burst out of you with the force of a typhoon probably Alien style and then float around the room like the evil little buggers they are.

“Which is why you tried so hard to get me out of it,” you return with a raised eyebrow.

“It would have been totally worth it,” he tells you with an appraising glance down at your naked torso. The way he bites his lip with his oversized front teeth really shouldn’t be that hot to you. And no your flush isn’t because of either of those two things at all. Not at all. “You’re cute when you blush.”

You drop you head back against the wall you happen to be pinned against and then promptly are thrown into hot confusion over whether or not it was a good thing to expose your throat to John. You are leaning towards good thing with the way his lips feels and the way his teeth scrape and the way he sucks just right and-

And there is a sound outside that reminds you of the cute little family out there who don’t need to see two college boys macking on each other in the changing room.

“John...”

“Hm?” You almost forget what you are about to say because of how that felt against your throat.

“You promised me something about a motorcycle if you can actually reach the pedals let alone have a license for it.”

The giggles against your throat should not cause such a reaction in your pants. They really shouldn’t. “I suppose I did.” He finally steps away, having to shrug off your fingers even though you want to get out of this compromising position, you really don’t. He runs his fingers through his messy black hair in a nonchalant manner that makes you kick yourself for not doing the same while he was in reach. “I have an extra jacket and helmet outside on my bike. Might want a shirt though,” he suggests with a smirk. A smirk that you want to kiss off his face. “Can’t do much about your shoes though, but you should be fine. As long as you hold tight that is.”

Then he fucking winks at you.

If you weren’t fighting down your erection while trying not to stare at how those jeans hug his ass or how nice his giggles sound, you would have shown him how it felt to be kissed up against a wall for that. Instead he just leaves you with your jaw hanging as he saunters out of the changing room to presumably meet you out in the parking lot.

You groan over your internal Bro voice making fun over how this fucking twink is making you lose all semblance of cool. Your internal Bro can go fuck himself with a rake. Actually you’re not sure the kinky fucker would like that or not.

You shake your head to clear yourself of those thoughts, but hey they did help with the erection problem. You mutter to yourself as you get your shirt out and stuff all other articles of clothing back into your bag after switching out your sandals for some real shoes. You are pretty sure that you are going to have the sandal strap lines burnt into your feet until deep winter. You just know it.

You grab your bag and keys and head out, only flinching a little at the bright sun despite your sunglasses. The parking lot is nearly empty as you head to your own ratty car before finding the nymph with the blue eyes and apparent motorcycle. You toss your stuff in and then turn around.

“Green looks good on you.” You glance down at your t-shirt and find that yes, you are wearing green. It just happened to be the one you grabbed at too early in the morning that was probably clean; you really hope it is clean. It’s a light faded green with Beaker (from the Muppets) face on it. Bro had found it somewhere somehow in some sort of reject bargain bin because Beaker is supposed to be a pinky orange. Kermit is the green one. And why the fuck do you know so much about Muppets? And more importantly, why the fuck are you thinking about Muppets at a time like this?

“Uh, thanks.”

“I mean, I’m just so used to seeing you in white and red which is attractive and all but it’s good to see you in other stuff.” He waves his hands around while he talks and you take a moment to look over the bike that he is leaning against. As he told you, there is another jacket draped over the seat and two helmets sitting together on top of that. You don’t know the second thing about motorcycles, but you do know just enough to know that he has a nice bike. It’s not a Harley or another low rider but one of those fast racing ones that Bro likes to call crotch rockets. It makes sense with John’s frame and all. The bright neon green trim looks nice and you find yourself smiling when you catch what looks like a Japanese knock off of the Ghostbuster’s Slimer symbol/logo thingy on the gas tank cover.

“So...”

“Oh, right!” John gets up from where he was leaning, looking all natural and sexy, and passes you first the jacket. It doesn’t fit exactly but just enough that you’ll be fine for the ride. When you do this again, you’ll have to get your own. You mean, if. If you do this again. The helmet comes next. You hesitate to take off your glasses but the visor is tinted so your eyes should be fine. You take off your shades and tuck them into your neckline, squinting your eyes against the harsh sunlight. The helmet goes on quickly and easily and the visor makes it much better.

“Ready?” John’s voice is slightly muffled through his own helmet and the foam padding around your ears.

“I’ve never ridden before.”

“Oh. Well, just hold on tight and lean with me.” He steps up to you and carefully lifts your shades off. You are about to complain but he keeps talking as he drops them in a compartment below the handle bars that actually probably safer for them than your shirt. “That’s about it. Feel free to scream in my ear if you can’t handle the speed. I’ll just go faster.”

Yep, he’s still a little shit. He grabs your hand and pulls you towards the seat. He of course climbs on first and then you slide on behind him. He really does feel small in front of you and you are pretty sure that standard operating procedure has the smaller person in the bitch seat but he’s in charge for this wild ride. You barely have your arms around his waist before he is revving the engine.

“Last chance to chicken out!” he shouts over the loud growling.

“Never, you little sonova-” You are cut off as he shoots across the parking lot with you only holding on out of pure instinct.

 


	3. Chapter 3

It takes you a moment to get used to the movement and how the wind pulls against you but you just hold onto him tighter until you can feel him laughing at you from how his ribs shake. You knock your helmet against his and he takes that as a sign to go faster. You peel out of the parking lot and onto the road, following his body as your turn. You’ve had years of experience fighting natural reactions so not freaking out and leaning towards the speeding asphalt underfoot is relatively simple. He seems to appreciate it and goes faster.

You can barely pay attention to where you are you are so caught up with how everything feels. The roar of the engine and rush of wind is strangely muffled by the helmet. Your peripheral vision is blocked and you have John and the bike in front of you blocking a lot of the rest. You can still feel his heat through the jackets but you are thankful for the leather long sleeves as even in the hot sun, the wind is chilly. All you really know is that there is a vibrating machine between your legs and you are holding onto the hottest guy that you have cross paths with this summer. You are fine with this scenario.

You glance around when you pick up a change of scenery. No longer are buildings and/or houses whipping past but there is wide open space on either side. You think you might be on some sort of country road. You have no idea which because you don’t get out of the city often and when you do, it’s always on the major highways. This road though seems to be cutting through fields of tall green plants that you feel like you should recognize. The sweeping fields roll away from your path and you watch how the rows flit by and highlight the contours of the land. The blue of the sky contrasts with the green highlighted by the brightness of the sun.

You feel free. You can’t stop the laughter bubbling up inside you at how awesome this ride is turning out to be. You think he might have heard you or maybe he took the signal from how you were holding him but he guns the engine and goes impossibly faster. It's terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. You catch a loud whooping cheer from in front of you which makes you grin.

The road curves and he takes you with it, winding back and forth through the swaths of green. You are pretty sure that the speed you are going is illegal but you can't find it in yourself to care. You are pretty sure Bro would bail you and probably him out. Maybe. You've never asked his opinion on motorcycles before.

You are still giddy as he finally slows and pulls off at a dirt driveway. The sun is much lower in the sky, turning the streaked clouds gold and red that stand out against the blue shifting into yellow that will shift into dark navy. He pulls off his helmet and you follow suit. As soon as he turns around in his seat, your lips are against his. You might still be smiling and laughing a little bit, but you feel the need to kiss out all of the adrenalin in your system. He seems to agree but after a moment he pulls away. You guess you were kinda pulling him into a contorted position that only a snake would have found comfortable for long makeouts. But you are immensely happy when he scampers off the bike while keeping a hand on your shoulder to keep you in place and then climbs back on facing you. Yeah, kissing him this way is so much better.

His legs are thrown over your thighs. One of your arms is wrapped around his waist and the other is correcting your mistake back at the pool and is so totally enjoying the thick black curls that don’t seem hampered by the helmet at all. He pulls himself to you and kisses you just as magnificently as he did in the changing rooms. Open mouthed with tongues sliding against each other, sloppy and oh so good. And then he sucks your bottom lip between his teeth. The way he nibbles and pulls on it has you moaning lightly and you can’t care about it.

He takes the noise as an invitation to grab the back of your hair and pull on it until you tip your head back and he goes for your throat again.

“John!”

“Mmmm,” he hums against your skin. “I like how that sounds. I think I’d like to hear more of that.”

You’d be lying if that didn’t get your heart pounding, blood surging, and dick twitching.

“This doesn’t happen to be your place out here, does it?” you ask nervously, not knowing if you are being too forward.

The giggle he returns so close to your ear has you pulling on his waist. “Nope. No idea who we are scandalizing out here. But before we get to my place, which I am totally game for getting to if you are because wow you are hot and cute and I really want to do things to you... But before all that, I want to take you out to dinner. There’s a place right up the road?” It’s the first time since you’ve dragged him out of the water that you even catch the hint of nervousness. It makes him somehow cuter than he already is.

“Dinner sounds good as long as you are the dessert.” The line comes out surprisingly steady for how much he is affecting you by nibbling on your earlobe.

“Well actually this place has some fantastic homemade ice cream.” And there goes all of the sexy innuendo you had built up the courage to say. You slump a little in the seat. “Oh. Um. Wow, good job, John,” he mutters. “Yes, of course I am on the menu,” he tries to salvage.

“Mood already destroyed, kid. Nice try though.”

“Damn it. And I was on a roll too.” He finally leaves your neck alone to pout.

“You were being a real Rico Suave,” you tease.

“Hey, you seemed to be enjoying it.” A mischievous smile accompanies a quick roll of his hips against yours that have you tightening your hands. You think maybe the small gasp he makes and the way he flutters his eyes might be from the grip in his hair.

“Uh, yes, that seems to be a thing that I was doing, am doing. Let’s just get to dinner so we can get to dessert faster and by dessert I think I can say that I mean you in your bed at your place.”

“My place over your place?”

“Well, unless you have a roommate as obnoxious as my older Bro who thinks he is a puppet ninja but who really is a pornographic asshole, then yes.”

“My place.” He seals the decision with a kiss which delays you for a couple more minutes.

The quick mile drive is actually nice even without the breakneck speeds. He pulls off the country road into a gravel parking lot next to an old steakhouse. Or so the sign outside proclaims. Along with boasts of “Best Steak This Side of Houston” though the peeling paint off of the thick timber construction has you concerned.

You both stack your helmets on the seat of the bike, snagging your sunglasses from the compartment, before you head inside. You kinda gag at the swinging saloon doors and the tacky decorations of everything and anything western/country/Texas related. Despite his punk rock appearance, John seems pretty comfortable in the setting, smiling and waving to the hostess/waitress before slipping into a booth.

“You’ll want to order the steak here.”

“Are you familiar with this place?” you question.

“Yeah, in fact...”

“Hey there Johnny,” our waitress greets. “I see you’ve brought a friend with ya.”

“Martha Sue, this is Dave. Dave, this is Martha Sue.”

“Nice to meet ya, sugar.” As much your name isn’t sugar, you actually don’t mind the term of endearment. “So, the usual for ya, Johnny?”

“Yeah. And actually make it two. Dave will enjoy it.”

“How do you like your steak cooked, sugar?”

“Uh... rare.”

“Oh good choice. Well, I’ll be out in a jiffy with your foods and some drinks.” She glides away from your table.

“Did you just order for me?”

“Uh,” his eyes go wide behind his glasses. “Oops, sorry?”

“Nah, it’s okay. I’m terrible with making decisions. We would have been here ‘til dawn if you gave me the chance to look over the menu. And you seem to have pretty good taste based on how much you seem to like my neck.” You get a catch a bit of color across his cheeks at that. Oh so now he blushes. You can’t seem to get a good read on his character. First he’s a prankster brat. Then stupid twink making you flustered while you are on duty. Then a little minx kissing you up against the wall. Then motorcycle daredevil. Then he gets all blushy when asking you out to dinner and again when you bring up kissing your neck. What is with this kid?

“Well, the steak dinner plate really is the best thing on the menu except for the root beer floats which will be at the end and I’m probably just going to order that for you too unless I am stepping on your manliness.” You let out a manly snort and he returns a giggle. “Okay good. I am mostly playing it by ear because I totally didn’t think my plans of seduction would actually work out this far. I mean, Operation Drowning never even got your shirt off and that was phase one so how was I supposed to know that Operation Seduce the Hot Lifeguard and subsequent phases were going to see any action. And now I have this hottie talking about coming to bed with me at my place and-” he bites off the next bit he was going to say. You are kinda interested in what it was going to be, probably something silly like ‘boners abound’ but instead you are interrupted by Martha Sue bringing drinks around.

You get a bit nervous as silence stretches out for a moment after she leaves again and the previous conversation has withered up and died. But then you do what comes as a natural gift to you and open you mouth and let words come out.

“So do you do anything besides get into wet t-shirt contests with your local neighborhood lifeguard slash poor college student only taking the job so he can pay for his film school?”

“You’re going for film?”

“Yeah. I want to make movies. I’ve been writing scripts based off of my comics for years now and Bro sort of just threw the flyers at me until I threw the application back at him. It was known as the ‘War of the Papercuts.’”

“I love movies! I mean, anything with Nic Cage is golden but you also have the classics like Ghostbusters and Armageddon and then you got the other actors like Matthew McConaughey-”

“Hold up. I take back what I said about taste.”

“What? No! They are great films!”

The conversation dissolves into an actually great discussion about the merits of those films mentioned and a lot more. Those were mostly the ones idolized in his youth. He was able to add more to his like category that you can agree with and/or stand and agreed about those you can’t. Besides his initial outburst, it seems like John has pretty good tastes. And he is very enthusiastic about movies and actually hung onto every word as you described what you wanted to do with your Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff franchise instead of tuning out like nearly everyone else, including your Bro sometimes, when you bring them up. You think you might be falling for this dork based on that alone. It’s nice to be appreciated.

You are so caught up in the conversation that it’s only as you bite into the juicy red meat of a delicious steak that you realize your food has even been served. And true to his word and the words on the sign outside, it probably is the best steak this side of Houston and maybe all of Houston and possibly all of Texas. The subtle flavors of the marinade have permeated the tender flesh cooked to the perfect texture and seasoned with the right balance of spices. Your conversation is completely derailed and is sitting to the side in a pile of flaming debris and you think you just moaned over a bite of steak.

“Did you just moan over the steak?”

“Shut up,” you attempt with a full mouth.

Surprisingly he does but you think it might have to do with the fact that he took a bite of his own angelically cooked steak. The table stays quiet except for the occasional comment about how great the mashed potatoes and gravy are or how crisp and fresh the steamed veggies are. And more moans over the steak.

Eventually actual conversation returns and you learn that he will be going to college for biology. Specifically deep sea biology with all of those neat and wicked sea monsters that lurk in the dark. He is doing a great impression of an anglerfish that has you grinning at him when Martha Sue comes by to pick up our plates.

“Johnny, sugar, y’all want some desserts now?”

“Two rootbeer floats,” you cut in before he can, taking back some of the affronted and non-existent manly honor.

“Sounds good, sweethearts. I’ll be right back.”

You catch John’s eyes across the table and for some reason the two of you just burst out laughing. You don’t even know what’s funny but you are desperately trying to laugh just a little bit softer, just enough so that you can breathe, but every time you look up, John’s face is contorted as he tries to do the same and you just lose it again. This continues for a long while and both of you are red in the face when you finally get a chance to breathe. His smile is dorky and makes your heart do funny things. You can’t help but notice the way his eyes seem to be just as expressive as his mouth. You really like that.

You are thankfully interrupted from getting gushy about this kid that you just met by Martha Sue bringing the two floats over. The two of you dig in with the provided spoons, enjoying the stiff foam and frozen shards tucked into the crevices of the ice cream. When everything is mostly soft and melted, you fish out the floating islands left and then sip on the creamy soda mix left. When you glance up next, John has a small foamy mustache across his upper lip. If it wasn't such a large thick table, you be inclined to lean over and kiss it off. But you can't so you settle for smirking at him as he uses his tongue to get it all in a sinfully efficient manner that makes you want to put that tongue to other uses.

Which brings you mind back to the possibilities of what will happen after the two of you complete dinner.

“So,” you start after you get the dregs of your float out of the bottom of the cup, “your place is where?”

That brings up the cute light flush across the tops of his cheeks. “Back in town. I just wanted to drive you out here for the drive and the food.”

“Both are totally worth it.”

“But you really want to go back to my place?”

“If you want, yea.”

“Why would I not want to? I’ve been trying to catch your attention all summer,” John lets out exasperatedly.

“Protip: just ask your crush out instead of pretending to drown at the neighborhood pool.” You roll your eyes at his wide, bright grin.

“Okay, okay, maybe it wasn’t the best strategy. But the end result seems to have worked in my favor. But if you are ready I’ll grab the check and we can head back.”

“Why do you get to grab the check? I’m not a chick.”

“Just think of it as a return on how many times you jumped in for me. For ‘saving’ my life.”

“What? No.”

“Too late.” You are shocked into not moving as he whips out his credit card as Martha Sue swings by to deliver the check. She picks it up without even stopping not giving you a chance to even voice a protest. So instead you level a glare at his cheeky grin and try to kick him under the table but just end up hitting the pole with your shin.

“Ow.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“Did you just kick the table?”

“No.”

“I think you did.”

“I think you’re wrong, kid.”

John just smiles at you like he just won.

“Shut up.”

He continues to not say anything. You continue to glower at him, fighting the urge to smile back at him, employing every art and nuance your Bro has taught you about the fabled poker face to keep your lips in a flat line. You manage to hold out until Martha Sue brings the check and his credit card back. When he bites his lips in concentration to sign the receipt you lose concentration so when he looks up with those expressive blue eyes you yield to the smile.

“Ready to bounce?” you ask as he tucks the piece of paper away.

“In more ways than one.” Your ears burn as you catch the double entendre. Before you can figure out if he meant it like that, and he probably did, he’s already scooting across the bench and straightening out his jacket. You follow suit and follow him out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

The sun has dipped down in the sky coating everything it touches in liquid gold. The clouds are streaked with pink across soft yellow and blue. You happen to like this time of day especially as it heralds the coolness and darkness of night.

“Not sure how much more romantic we can get.”

“Huh?”

“Motorcycle ride through the countryside at sunset.”

You chuckle because yeah, that does sound good. He hands you the helmet and you switch out your shades for the visor, catching him watching you intently. You realize that you just ate all of dinner with your sunglasses on without explaining why. You’re okay with the fact that he apparently has enough couth not to ask outright (unlike some classmates of yours, you reminisce ruefully) but he’s still curious about you it seems. Well, he’ll get an eyeful back at his place after the sun is down if he keeps the lights down. Having sensitive eyes sucks.

As soon as he gets his own helmet in place you both resume your positions on the bike with your arms wrapped tightly around his waist and him leaning forward over the roaring motor as you fly along the empty roads.

The thrill of how far he tilts and how fast he pushes the bike on the straightaways makes you cling to him tighter and laugh in his ear. You don’t know if he hears you but you hear him when he shouts his own triumph. Now that you are sure that you won’t end up a smear on the asphalt you take the chance to look around a little bit more. You enjoy the scenery of rolling fields and quaint farmhouses glowing in the last flash of dying daylight. You are glad that west is directly behind you as you can’t look directly at the sunset but you watch at the pallet of colors are smears across the sky and touch everything you pass.

You are almost disappointed as you reach civilization just as the last of the sun disappears under the horizon but then you catch sight of the city rising up all decked out in electric sparkles and you are okay with the change of scenery. This is what you are more familiar with. It still makes you itch for a camera, though the lens never quite catches what your eye does.

He navigates through the city streets, minding his speed with the increased traffic but still bursting when he can, making you shout in surprise. You squeeze him tightly in admonishment. It wouldn’t be good to get pulled over and arrested for speeding past a cop. Your idea of a good time is not a cavity search at the county jail. He just laughs at you and takes corners sharp enough to make your heart catch in your throat. Of course you’d be on a date with a daredevil jackass.

Though you hope his moves are as heart stopping in bed.

And that thought didn’t help the boner that you hope he doesn’t feel rubbing up against his ass on the narrow seat. You think he can though when he wiggles against you on the one red light that he didn’t quite catch.

Finally he pulls into a parking garage in an area that you recognize. It’s only a couple blocks from your own place, well, the one you share with Bro, where he pays the cheap ass rent with one of the millions made from his weird ass puppet web sites. But this was definitely a couple levels nicer than your place, you notice as he takes you up and up and up through the tight turns of the garage. It’s just near the top that he finally coasts to a stop. It’s dark enough outside that you just tuck your shades into the front of your shirt after taking off the helmet.

“So you want to come in for a drink or are you just going to kiss me at my doorstep?” he asks playfully.

“Well, I was just going to kiss you, but we aren’t at your doorstep per say, so that really narrows down my options. And you aren’t twenty-one so any drink you have will be pansy ass soda or coffee. I bet you drink coffee, don’t you?”

“Well, I am from Seattle,” he says, tilting his head in thought as he steps up close to you. Your hands instinctively go to his waist.

“See! I knew it. And I bet you drink Pepsi instead of Coke too which is blasphemy in this state just to let you know. So I’m going to decline on the drinks as well. So that leaves us in a conundrum unless you can comes up with a third option.” You sway with him playfully.

“Well Dave, I guess I will have to invite you in for a fuck, won’t I?”

Your breath catches in your throat for a second. “Goddamn, Egbert. A bit forward there. Shouldn’t you take a southern belle like me out to dinner first?”

“I did actually,” he informs you with a grin.

“Oh. Well then. I have no excuses. I am wooed.” You kiss his upturned face and revel in how soft his lips are. You pull him into you and enjoy the soft sigh that he lets out. You think the way he runs his fingers through his hair could be addictive.

You aren’t sure when it switched from being a sweet kiss to being an hungry one but it’s definitely that when his back bumps up against the nearest wall and you get to return the favor of the kiss he gave you in the changing room. It’s open mouthed and a little messy, with moans being passed back and forth as he grabs onto your shoulders and you press him into the wall. When his leg comes up to wrap around your thigh, your hands slide to his ass and lift him up, throwing his other leg around you too. His new height makes it easier on your neck too as you balance him between your body and the wall with your hands cupping him.

You are definitely getting a little hot and bothered by the way he kisses you like there is no tomorrow. The way he clings to you almost in desperation makes it hard for you to control your hips and it’s only the constant sound of traffic, nothing up on your level yet, that keeps you cognizant that you are out in public. You don’t think he much cares based on how he’s trying to find some leverage to grind against you.

And you are about to decide that you don’t care when a wolf whistle catches your attention. The door bangs shut belatedly next to you and John has tucked his head against your shoulder with a mortified groan.

“Hey J-N! If you let me get a camera, I’ll share half of the profits!” John’s apparent neighbor shouts out as he continues to head to his car.

“Fuck off, Sollux!” John calls back somewhat muffled. He’s answered with laughter.

He finally looks up when the car speeds by with a honk. John’s face is deep red in blush from the incident. Both of you are kinda breathless and you are grinning. You hands are still on his ass and really have no intention of leaving.

“As much of an asshole as Sollux is, we probably should move this inside.”

That means letting go of his prime ass which makes you sad. “Oh, I don’t know, John. I kinda like this Sollux character. He’s got some good ideas. We could put on a decent show for him and I definitely wanna see how far that blush is spreading.” You tilt your head down and start pressing kisses against his neck, working you way down to his shirt’s collar and then pushing that aside with your lips to get more. You feel him arch against you, almost offering himself up.

“Inside, please, Dave? I want to be able to show my face around here since I have a year lease at least.”

“Fine,” you say you agree but make no moves yet. You wait until he is laughing and pushing against you to finally let him down. You steal one more brief kiss before letting him show you the way through the maze like apartment hallways, though you could have eventually found his door on your own you suppose. It has the same knockoff Slimer hanging from the knocker. You smirk at him as he unlocks the door.

The smirk sorta fades away as you enter behind him. The soft lights that he flicks on don’t hurt your sensitive eyes and reveal an apartment of sophistication and taste that adds just another complex angle to the enigma that is John Egbert. It strikes you immediately as an urban, industrial loft. The bare concrete gives everything a soft cool grey tone with the dark exposed structural beams overhead angling up to meet at the top of a tall, wide window that overlooks the shining lights of the cityscape.

You set your shades down on the nice dark granite kitchen counter which is graced with stainless steel appliances and matching handles on black cabinet fronts. The room isn’t spotless, but the piles of clothes tucked into the corners gave it a lived-in feel rather than making it look messy. Opposite a entertainment system glowing with several different colored buttons, there is a slouchy almost bean bag couch, shoved against the wall to make room for the main attraction. The king sized bed has faintly mussed navy blue sheets which match the theme in the rest of the apartment. Everything seems to be some shade of navy or gray except where there are bright spots of yellow. But honestly your attention just keeps going back to the bed.

“Wow,” you finally find your voice to speak. “So you come from money or something? Or are you just a player? Obviously the bed’s the most important thing from your feng shui layout that you have going here. Not that I’m complaining mind you.” You start to wander around a bit while he does his usual ‘just home’ routine, putting up his keys, helmet, jacket, taking off his shoes, getting a drink, etc. “Are you looking for a maid? Cause damn, I could use a sugar daddy.” You hear a snort from behind you. “Fuck, I said that out loud, didn’t I? But you’re a shota-”

“Ahem.”

“I mean, shota impersonator by day, motorcycle thug by night, who happens to look really great in leather and I think I am going to shut up now.”

“You know that motorcycle isn’t the only thing I know how to ride pretty well.” Your jaw drops and your pants get tight really fast. If you aren’t careful, you are going to brain yourself on the concrete floors from oxygen deprivation with how your blood is wanting to flow. “I even know a few tricks.”

Yep, you think as you groan, he is going to kill you.

You manage to keep yourself from startling when you feel his hands on your waist, coming from behind. He slides them up your chest underneath your jacket. You close your eyes against the shivers his hot palms cause. He continues upwards to your shoulder and neatly relieves you of the borrowed leather jacket.

You know he is teasing you but you can’t bring yourself to criticize him for his methods.

You are expecting him to return but instead he walks past you and flops backwards on the bed. His expression is coy and inviting and you feel like your hips are being drawn forward. You manage to kick off your shoes before you land on the cloud next to him. For a moment you forget about him as you lay face down on the small piece of heaven that he has captured. You didn’t know a bed could be simultaneously this soft and this supportive. The satin sheets rub pleasantly against your face.

You are brought back to what you are supposed to be doing when you feel him shift and roll halfway onto your back. You turn your head to his direction and meet his lips. After a bit more shuffling without displacing the kiss you end up on your back with him draped across you. He’s light as you expected and very warm. Your hands are once again drawn to his waist and slip under his shirt to brush against his soft skin. They push up higher long his back, caressing those muscles that you watched propel him through the water. His hands are doing similar at your hips but instead they are descending down from where your shirt has been pushed up to the tops of your jeans.

It’s hard to keep all of the sensations separate in your head so you don’t. You start to relate how you kiss him to how well his fingers feel as they dip under your waist band. You match each stroke along his back to how his hips roll against yours. You nip at his lips as he slides his leg between yours. You gasp and moan when he licks a stripe down your neck. Your lips are hot against each other as he presses you into the mattress. You drag his shirt off when the two of you come up for breath. Then suddenly his mouth is against your stomach, licking, kissing, and sucking his way up, pushing your shirt in front of him until you are pulling it off to give him more skin to explore.

And explore he does.


	5. Chapter 5

It’s like he wants to map out your skin and touch every crevice. He even sits up a little, his leg coming up to the outside of your hips to balance himself just so he can use both hands to touch you. You cup the curve of his ass, enjoying it even through the jeans. Jeans that are getting in the way. Jeans that need to come off.

You like how he giggles when you attack the button on his jeans to remedy this situation, how his body shimmies to get them off of his hips, but not how he rolls off of you to kick them the rest of the way off. He’s too far from you and this needs to be fixed immediately. You roll onto him as soon as his legs are free, only paying marginal attention to the bright yellow boxer briefs. You resume kissing him through his giggles and attempts to depants you as well. You don’t give him much of a fighting chance though as you are taller and therefore have more leverage over him. He aims to cheat instead, his hands skimming up your sides as if to tickle you. Thankfully, years of ‘training’ with your Bro has killed off all of your ticklish spots and you are immune. You still grab his wrists and pin them to the bed just in case.

When you next pull away to breathe you find him pouting at you. You quickly release his hands thinking that’s what’s got him upset but as soon as you let him go he is pushing against your chest and actually successfully shoving you off and onto your back. You stare up at him in surprise as he quickly shucks you of your pants.

“Oh.” His exclamation is soft with surprise.

You feel a bit of a draft and belatedly realize that you were going commando so you just leaped ahead of him in terms of lacking clothes. You cover your reddening face briefly before realized that that won’t help cover your shame so you quickly cover your now exposed boner. But without your face being covered you catch him licking his lips which makes your problem twitch against your hands.

“That float really wasn’t very filling. And now you are trying to keep the treat to yourself, Dave. Can’t have that.”

Okay, the husky tone of his voice is not fair. It is absolutely not fair how it sends shivers up your spine and how that predatory gaze tried to draw a whine from your throat. Once again you feel your hands reaching to cover your face and you note how his eyes track back down to your lower half prompting your hands to return. Maybe if you could grab a pillow you could use it to cover your face while you scream into it.

He prevents you from making a decision by reaching in and grabbing your wrists and pinning them like you had his pinned moments before. His puts his body hovering over you and he fucking licks his lips again.

But he puts your pounding heart at ease when he continues forward, sliding up until he is eye level with you. Then he pauses with a curious expression.

“You’re eyes are about as red as your blush.”

Fuck. You close your eyes and throw yourself upwards, dislodging him and trapping him underneath you again in a quick move you think you might have picked up from a strife. You blindly grab his shoulders and press him down into the mattress.

“Oh god,” he almost moans out. “Are you a fucking ninja? Am I about to get laid by a ninja? Wow shit that’s hot.”

Your heart calms down a little as you realize he’s not bringing your eyes up again. You squint them open to find him grinning stupidly up at you. His glasses are slightly skewed and his hair is a wild mess against the navy sheets. And you are naked, straddling bright yellow shorts. No. That won’t do. With the same consideration that he gave your pants, you handle his boxer briefs. He helps a bit by lifting his hips and kicking them off his ankles.

You glance down and you get the same urge to lick your lips at the tasty sight. You manage not to fall for the cliche though. But it takes you a while to look away.

“Am I allowed to lick you yet? Or is this going to take a kinky turn? Not that I’m complaining if it does,” John explains cheekily. “I can direct you to where I keep the handcuffs though if you are dead set on keeping me immobilized.” Then he fucking winks at you.

Did he materialize himself from your fantasies or something? Are you dreaming? Did you get trapped at the bottom of the pool too and this is your dying brain giving you a last burst of pleasure before death? Because there is no way that John can be real.

“Or you could just stare at me though if you give me a hand back I’ll give you a nice show?” John comments at your lack of movement as your brain tries to process what the fuck is going on.

There is obviously only one way to make sure he is real. You do let go of his hands so that you can grab his waist and attack his chest with your mouth. You return all of the teasing he gave you with nips and licks across his front, sliding up to his collar bone before heading back down. Your hands glide down his sides making him squirm a little underneath you as apparently he is also ticklish. Your lips move down across his abs, playfully kissing his navel, before nibbling at his bony hips. You hear his breath pick up as your thumbs trace along the sensitive skin between abdomen and thigh. He’s struggling to stay still as you circle closer and he positively keens as your mouth skips over what he wants and goes for his inner thigh.

“Fuck fuck! Dave! What- what are you doing?” he whines.

“Taking my time before I get to the main event. What does it look like I am doing?”

“Being a fucking prick!”

“No, I’m just not sucking your prick yet.” You look up at him, or at least try to because the object of conversation happens to be in your line of sight. “So along with those handcuffs of yours, you wouldn’t happen to have any flavored condoms, would you? Oh, any apple? Just as long as it isn’t orange.”

“Well, um, no, but I think I know where to get some but I’m clean? Uh, I was worried after my last- my ex, so I got tested and passed with flying colors. It was a relief after I found out he wasn’t exactly good at keeping it in his pants.” He flushes a bit and has an odd expression that has you pulling up a bit. You feel like you want to comfort him the way he’s squirming.

“I’ve been tested too. Bro dragged me out as a right of passage or something after my ex dumped me. That was a fun conversation,” you roll your eyes at the memory. Terezi wasn’t the first one to imply that you might have a leaning towards your own sex but she definitely had the strongest argument.

Your confession does seem to help John out and he finally meets your eyes again.

“Now that we both know too much and are embarrassed as hell,” you change topics conversationally as you slide a finger along the underside of the waiting dick in front of you, “where were we?”

“You were trying to kill me by drawing this out. Probably because you’re not sure you can suck my massive dick.” You are surprised he kept a straight face through that, though only a beat later you both are laughing at the cheesy line.

“Fuck you.”

“I would if you let me up,” he immediately counters through his giggles. “Why do you get to be on top anyways?”

“Well since you wouldn’t let me even try to pay for dinner, I think maybe I should get a taste of you first. Only fair right?”

“What? How does that even logica-AH!” You cut him off when your mouth catches the tip of his cock with your lips. Your tongue swirls about the head, getting a breathy “Ooooh!” before you slide down the shaft. “Mmmmm, Dave!”

You can’t tell him how he tastes because your mouth is a little full but you can definitely show your appreciation. You work his shaft like a goddamn porn star, keeping your lips pressed tight around and your teeth covered. Your tongue assists by dancing over the silky hot skin and toying with the veins and ridges. The little bit of suction has him clawing at the sheets until one of his hands gets the brilliant idea of grabbing your hair and then you apply a lot of suction.

“Dave! Oh fuck!”

You try out a bunch of different techniques and you enjoy every different sound that he makes for them. You especially like the moan he makes when you take him into your throat.

“Dave Dave Dave!”

You most definitely like the way your name sounds when he is crying out.

“I’m- I’m-” he tries to warn you but you are having too much fun. He tugs at your hair but when you stay fast to his cock he just tightens his grip and lets go of control on his hips. He thrusts up into your mouth several times before he stiffly arches off the bed and fills your mouth with cum. You drink him down quickly, swallowing before it makes a mess.

With a relieved sigh he collapses back down on the bed and you finally allow yourself to be pulled off.

“Fuck.”

“That good, huh?”

“Yes.”

“You look a lot better choking on my name in pleasure than you do choking on chlorinated water when fake drowning,” you tell him as you move up the bed to flop next to him. “Though you do look good soaking wet.”

“You look fantastic without that damn shirt on,” he comments almost dreamily. You smirk smugly at his post orgasmic state. You reach down and lightly palm yourself to his breathless sighs as he recovers. When you start to jerk yourself, rocking the bed a bit, he looks over. Well, more like he lets his head fall in your direction.

“Oh no, we are far from done here. Stop that.” He tries to bat your hand away. “If you try to get off before I get a chance to ride you, I’m busting out those cuffs.”

Comments like that are going to make you come which you think is the opposite of his intent. But you can tell he’s serious as he pushes himself up off the bed. You catch a glimpse of his dick and yeah, it really hasn’t gone down at all despite the recent orgasm. Again, you feel like he can’t be real.

“You can’t be real.”

“What?”

“Honestly. I’ve died and gone to heaven though that can’t be true because I was sure I was going to hell for a couple of things but instead I got you so I’m not complaining but you can’t be real.”

“Uh huh. Because not real people totally can do this.” You decide his argument has weight behind it when you gasp as he takes your cock down to the root in his mouth. Though it also puts another tally in the not real column to because fuck it’s unreal how good it feels.

“Fuck fuck fuck!”

He pulls off with a wicked sound that has you moaning in response. “Well that’s the end game, yes.” You just groan as he giggles. He slides up to quickly kiss you before retreating off of the bed completely. You prop yourself up on one elbow and watch as his cute ass wander away. He once again looks pretty young but not enough to make you squirm, especially not with the knowledge of how hot he can be.

You muse a bit about how many faces John has. The childish youth. Trouble making prankster. Hot motorcycle rider. Deepsea dork. Movie fanatic. Sauve casanova. Smoking hot piece of ass. And oh god that ass. Which reminds you, you haven’t even copped a proper feel since you got his pants off. That needs to be dealt with immediately. Your Bro would be beating you into the dirt for ignoring such a plump rump and you are further banning that phrase from your head for the rest of eternity.

Oh hey, look. That ass is coming back towards you with that delicious dick and a nice sized bottle of lube that he’s scraping the plastic safety wrap off of. You notice that he’s left his glasses behind. As soon as he gets close enough to the bed, you lunge at him with hands going around to grab that booty, making him squeak as he’s dragged forward. And it’s as good as you thought it would be. You just want to fondle, pinch, spread, kiss, bite, smack, and have at this glorious little twink’s ass. He’s laughing as you lift him up, somewhat over you shoulder, only to toss him back down to the middle of the bed.

“Hmmm, new bottle of lube, John? Been saving it special for me?” you tease before laying kisses along his neck and shoulder.

“Uh, well, um...”

You pull back far enough to look at his face and find him bright red again. “Seriously?” You don’t know whether to be flattered or creeped out by his stalkerism. You think you are going to go with flattered. Your dick is telling you to go with flattered. “That’s hot.”

He relaxes a bit and smiles up at you. “I’m just glad it all worked out.” He glances back down at the mangled plastic. “Now if only I could get it open to see how well this works.”

“Gimme.” He hands it over and you have it stripped down in two seconds flat and he’s staring at you like you are magic.

“I have a couple more things I need opened.”

“You have an ass that I need to open.” As cheesy as the line was to deliver it was worth the deepest blush yet across John’s face. You kiss him soundly to make up for it until he is pliant under you.

But once again you are dragged into the heat of the kiss, derailed from your original purpose, thrown from your quest. And it's hotter without any pesky clothes in the way. His skin is hot against yours, you can't get over how warm he always is. Your hips slide together like puzzle pieces, your erections touching with delicious friction. You could lose yourself to just the way he pants and moans around the kiss. But when your wrist brushes against the cool bottle you remember his threat about the cuffs and as nice as that sounds, maybe not for your first time.

And you swear to god, or whoever is listening, that there will definitely be a second if not third if not hundredth time.

"John," you gasp.

"Yeah, yeah. Shit, it's nice to kiss you.” He steals another kiss. “Can’t I-” kiss “just keep-” kiss “kissing you?” Kiss.

“Yes, by all means, keep kissing me. Don’t stop, please don’t stop. But I also want to fuck you.” That gets his attention and a shiver.

“Fine, if you are going to be that way,” he pouts but with a playful tone. He unwraps his limbs from your torso and lets you up. You roll to the side to fiddle with the bottle, finally getting it open and some onto your fingers. When you look back at him, he’s on his hands and knees, ass presented beautifully to you. He’s looking back over his shoulder cheekily at you while you moan at the sight. You reach out with your clean hand and gently stroke the smooth skin. It really is a quality ass. Makes you just want to bite it.

You aren’t quite sure what happened but you find yourself leaning forward with a mouthful of ass cheek a half second before John is yelping away from you.

“What the fuck was that?” John asks as he rubs the sore area.

“You just looked good enough to eat.” He glares up at you. “C’mon, come back here. Let me kiss it better.” His expression turns suspicious. “I promise.” Reluctantly he gets back onto his knees and you do as you say and kiss the spot turning red. You keep kissing it even as you bring your other hand up and start to touch him to slick him up. You start to suck on the abused area to keep it red and honestly you are looking to maybe make it a little more permanent.

You work at this noble goal while gently pushing a slick finger in making John moan. You are pretty sure it’s directed at the penetration not the ass hickey, but that doesn’t slow you down for either. When he starts rolling his hips to get more of your finger you gently add a second.

“Fuck yes!” he calls out before burying his head in his arms. You finally pull your focus away from your mouth, happy with how the mark looks. Slowly carefully and adding a bit more lube you continue to stretch him out. You don’t want to hurt him because despite him taking you so easily, you are a bit more than a mouthful. By the time he gets comfortable three fingers he is an absolute mess.  

“Please, please, oh god, please!” You just smirk at him and continue to work your fingers back and forth. “No, fuck this.” He pulls himself together and manages to get away from you, only to turn around and tackle you back onto the bed. He straddles your hip and then grabs your messy hand, bringing it to your hip. You do the obvious and cover your cock with the leftover lube. “Much fucking better, you tease.”

“I’m the tease?” you repeat in disbelief.

“Shut up and fuck me.”

“With pleasure.” You hold yourself straight with one hand and guide his hips above you with the other. He takes over as he lowers himself, sheathing you in delicious soft heat. You feel the full body shiver course through him when he gets fully seated. He has an expression of bliss on his tilted back face. Then he looks down and your breath is taken away by the hungry heat behind those blue eyes.

It is not a slow and gentle coupling. No, the two of you are much too wound up for that despite the many detours. In fact the delays just added to how much you needed this.

His hips roll against yours in steady undulation. His thighs lift him up until only the tip of your cock is inside him and then let him drop back down to feel your whole length again. Your hands are cupped under his ass to help his movement so he can ride you faster. He supports himself with arms braced against your chest. When he throws his head back with a moan, all you can think of is how beautiful he looks.

“John John John,” you chant out the only other word in your vocabulary right now and it just encourages him to roll faster and rock harder until there is a slap of skin each time his ass bounces against your thighs. His dark hair clumps up and sticks to his forehead when it is not shaking with each thrust. You feel like yours maybe in a similar shape where the red hasn’t fallen around your head sliding against the sheets as he fucks you into the bed. Not that you are complaining in the least bit.

“Fu- fuck! Dave!” he pants out. One of your hands glides down his thigh; you can feel the tremors in the muscle. You caress his leg and then reach for his cock. He shudders deliciously as you wrap your hand around him. When you stroke him in time with his hips he moans like music and you decide that you need to hear more of them along with those pretty little gasps he makes when your thumb brushes over the slit.

You pull your legs up, planting your heels just under your ass and start bucking up into him. He’s knocked forward so that his flushed face hangs over yours and balances himself on your chest so you can keep fucking him at the same ravishing pace you are beating him off.

“Yes yes! Oh god yes!” he croons out. You grin up at him as his eyes nearly roll back into his head as you fuck him. “Fuck yes!”

“John,” you moan back to him.

“Love the way that sounds. Say it again.”

“John, John, John, John!” you say over and over until you are shouting his name. He shuts you up though by crashing his lips to yours bringing a hand up to grip the back of your hair tightly.

You lose it completely when he fucking moans into your mouth. Your body arches up to meet his as both your hips and hand stutter as blinding pleasure crashes through you. You come with those jagged pumps and are granted the vague sensation of wet heat splashing against your chest as well before you finally collapse back down to the bed.

He finally leaves your mouth, giving you a chance to breath in gulps of air as he does the same only inches from your face. You stare into his wild blue blue blue eyes and as cliche as it sounds, you absolutely get lost in them. And honestly, you don’t ever want to be found.

“Dave.” Your names sounds so soft on his lips.

“John,” you murmur back to him, hoping to convey the same to him. You think you might have by the way his eyes smile and the corner of his lips twitch upward. You bet he would be grinning if he wasn’t so exhausted and satisfied. He drops his forehead to yours and just stays there as your bodies slowly start to cool.

Your chests aren’t heaving when he finally untangles himself and rolls to the side with soft moans and groans and a final thump. After his hand finds yours, the two of you lay spread out on his navy sheets staring up at the exposed beams for a while. Your lungs might be somewhat functional but your heart is still pounding in your ears and you think your toes and fingertips might be tingling. Or maybe that’s just where they are touching him. Further inquiry is needed once you can move.


	6. Chapter 6

John ends up moving first. Which you have to wonder at seeing as he got off twice during that little jaunt you just took on top of his sheets.

“Showers are in order,” he announces as he carefully pushes himself up to his elbows. “And for once I am going to be a good host and offer you the first shower, but don’t expect this often. Unless,” he pauses dramatically and then shifts into a seductive tone that makes your dick think about twitching, “you want to shower together.”

You force yourself not to laugh at the ridiculous... dance his eyebrows just did because that’s just not cool. But there isn’t anything that could drag you out of this bed for another good fifteen minutes at least. You lift one arm up and flop your wrist in his direction, making a wave like motion, “Mrrrr, you shower first. I’m still post orgasmic bliss. Mrrrr.”

He laughs at you but carefully climbs off the bed. You watch that ass walk across the room again, a little bit stiffly, and disappear into the bathroom. Such a nice ass. With that red mark still there. Oops.

As you hear the water turn on and the scrape of a curtain, your thoughts drift back through the day. He put some serious planning into all of this. And apparently had for a while. Makes it seem like he’s looking for something a little more serious than a one night seduction. And you find yourself okay with that. You wouldn’t mind crashing here over your own place a couple nights. And he is something of a sugar daddy to your broke ass. Bro is tighter with his money than Scrooge. Something about having to work for it. Which you now have the freckles to prove.

Damn it. Stupid freckles.

You hear light humming coming from the smaller room as John didn’t close the door behind him. It wouldn’t hurt to join him, you think as you slide off the bed. Your gait is a little shaky but no one is watching so it’s alright as you cross the room. The steam is billowing out over a navy blue curtain sprinkled with bright yellow stars that seems childish and mature at the same time. You frown at the contradictory curtain before glancing around the bathroom. It seems pretty neat with only a couple things that he probably uses regularly out on the counter plus his glasses, which are nearly opaque with steam.

Then you see the fluffy white towels. Now that is some quality shit, you concur as you run your hands over their plush landscapes. Your lips curl up into a grin. It would be a shame if they weren’t here when he got out of the shower. Such a shame indeed.

A prank for a prankster.

You gather up all the towels that you can find, using the corner of one to clean up the mess on your torso, and move them to the other room but just in reach of the door for when you need to go in. Just in time too. The water squeaks off and you hear him moving a bit before finally pulling back the curtain. From your vantage point just outside of the bathroom you see his hand grope about the towel rack.

“Huh?” The curtain slides back further. He sticks his head out and looks around, squinting through his poor eyesight. “Dave?”

“Yeah?” you try to sound casual.

“Did you...” He tries to look around again. “Did you take my towels?”

“Why would I do that?” You know you suck at lying. Bro has taught you that lesson a couple times.

“I- I don’t know,” you hear the doubt in his voice and you do your best not to snicker at his predicament. “You did, didn’t you?”

“No idea what you are talking about.”

You watch as John steps out of the shower and goes to reach for his glasses but when he finds them too steamy he puts them back down. It is really hard to hold you poker face in place while this shrimp of a cutie storms out of the bathroom, pausing at the door to squint to find you before stalking the last two feet with a finger pointed out. It taps against your chest before he stops.

“You did steal them! And why the fuck are you smirking? What the fuck are you smirking at?”

“You’re naked.”

You really shouldn’t get so much pleasure from seeing him blush that quickly. “Oh god I’m naked.”

You help hide his shame by grabbing his arms and twisting him a little to push him up against the wall right next to the bathroom door. He scowls at you when he feels his feet brush up against the towel. But you hide the scowl too when you lean in and kiss him in a reversal of what happened in the changing rooms back at the pool. And yes, even post sex he still tastes fucking amazing.

You press up against this soaking wet, hot piece of ass and kiss him mercilessly. The heat from his shower feels good against your air chilled body as you slip a leg between his. His wrists are smaller than you expect but that just makes it easier to hold and pin in one hand after you bring them up above his head. His breath catches when you grip them tight against his struggles and he lifts himself up to the balls of his feet to kiss your back harder. You other hand glides down the curve of his back alongside a drip from his dark slicked back hair to settle at his waist.

When you pull him closer you feel his dick brush against your hip and holy shit he’s getting hard again. The kid isn’t human. But you have to play it cool. You are a Strider and you won’t let some perky twink get you flustered. More than he already has. Right. Moving on.

“Tsk, tsk. Just got you clean, ya fuckin’ twink,” you lay the southern accent on thick briefly. “You really are perfect, but I have to get clean and your little magical ass has to give me a bit more time before I can pound it again. Seriously, how does your biology work? Doesn’t your dick hurt getting hard again so soon?”

“It’s a good kind of hurt,” he replies in a breathless tone that makes you consider the bed over the shower but then your dick twitches painfully and you abandon that thought.

“Damn, kid. Damn.” You kiss him one more time to leave him completely breathless before stepping away and grabbing a towel. He stays slumped against the wall as you enter the bathroom, tossing him his glasses with a quick warning of “Catch!” before locking the door behind you.

Thankfully he doesn’t have a complicated shower and you get it turned on quickly. You don’t need it as scalding hot as he did and just quickly get through your shower with mildly hot water. It feels good to finally get the chlorine off your skin, not to mention the layer of sex sweat. You realize you are going to smell like him when you use his shampoo and soap and for some reason it really doesn’t bother you.

You are glad to find the towel still on the bar when you exit the shower and that John hadn’t found his way in to take it back. It’s a legitimate concern. That situation has happened. You don’t trust any of the locks over at your place. One of the many many many reasons John’s never coming over. Ever.

You dry off and then wrap the towel around your waist to protect your decency, you guess. You open the door to a blast of chilled air that has you scrambling for a second towel to throw over your shoulder. When you finally get covered up, you start looking around for your actual clothes. John’s tottering over around the kitchen in some sweatpants and a wifebeater that looks sinfully good on his body. Like damn.

You duck your head as he catches you staring. There are your pants. And your shirt. And where the fuck are your boxers? Did you actually wear any today? Nope.

“Hey John, got another pair of sweats not in midget size? Anything that fits you will be high waters on me and that just ain’t attractive.”

“You could always walk around nude, I wouldn’t mind,” he shrugs. You smirk at him with a roll of his eyes but he doesn’t quite sound on par with his previously seductive self.

“I could but that wouldn’t help prevent you from jumping my bones again. If you don’t have anything, I guess I can wiggle my ass into these jeans. Who thought jeans without boxers was a good idea?” you end up muttering to yourself.

“Ah, I do, um, actually have a pair.”

“Sweet.” You drop the jeans. He walks over to the dresser and pulls out a long gray pair. You slip into them when he tosses them over. They are the right length but a little wide around the waist. But that’s what drawstrings are for. So what if it distorts the toothy green skull on the hips. “These work!” You show them to John doing a quick twirl. You notice his eyes catch onto the logo. “Whose were these?”

“Nobody’s,” he answers too quickly.

“Dude, I don’t have to wear them. I still have my jeans.”

“No. No. You’re fine. Just-” You wait out the pause. “They were my ex’s. I have them because he kinda left quickly. I kinda made him leave quickly and I just haven’t gotten rid of all of his stuff.”

You walk quickly over to where he is standing there nervously rubbing his arm. “His loss, my gain. And not just on the pants either.” You lean down to kiss him. You wonder with the way he melts into your arms how anyone could give something this good up. Damn.

Though the little nagging part of your brain starts to chew on this. It questions shit when it’s not supposed to. Planting little thoughts like ‘how long ago was this?’, ‘is John really over this other guy?’, ‘could you be just the rebound?’, ‘what if he isn’t even looking for a real relationship?’, ‘what if he just wants a fuckbuddy?’ because you aren’t sure that you could just be that the way you are falling head over heels for him, but seriously, what if he’s not-

John thankfully interrupts your downward turning thoughts by breaking off the kiss to look up at you. You’d be a little self conscious about your eyes except of the shadowiness of standing in front of the window and the wide open emotions in John’s eyes.

“Um. Well. Would you like to stay the night?” he asks hopefully but immediately continues, “I mean, if you don’t then I can totally take you home. No need for a taxi when I have a motorcycle you know.” It’s kinda cute actually. And very familiar as he drops his volume and starts to mumble, “because if this is going to be a one night thing then you should probably leave now instead of the awkward morning thing because no one likes the awkward morning th-”

You had to stop the Strider-like ramble with a kiss. It was the only reasonable course of action. No one could blame you. No jury would convict you.

“Would you, John Egbert, like to go out on a date with me tomorrow probably around noon because I can’t promise I will get out of your bed before noon.”

It takes him a moment to process the statement. You know this because you can see it on his face when the lightbulb goes off. The bright grin on his face is worth everything.

“Yes!” Then he attacks your face with kisses. Giggling light kisses that make you laugh in return. You manage to grab his head and hold him still long enough to get a proper kiss in. He calms down after that but is still grinning.

“How about a movie from that collection you told me about at dinner? Unless that entertainment system is actually just an empty black box like the ones that you see on display in furniture stores.”

Of course that gets him excited again and he bounds way before bouncing back to grab your hand and drag you over to the case where you can now see the rows of spines of all the movies he owns. It’s a quick debate over the impressive collection before you narrow the choices down to a small handful and then he makes you chose a number as he holds them behind his back. The number turns into the one the two of you will watch tonight with the rest going into a stack for other nights.

Both of you blush a little at the casual mention of other nights.

Ignoring that, John gets the system set up and sends you to rummage through his kitchen for some popcorn and drinks. It’s actually slightly surprising to see what you would consider real food in his pantry and refrigerator. It highlights the immaturity of your Bro if a college student living alone can have better sustenance in his apartment than a thirty year old guardian. How does he even function?

You bring the food back over in time to catch him flopping onto the bed, again looking like a young teenage boy with his wide grin and ruffled hair. You end up curled up behind him, using your height to keep his hair out of your nose as you look over his head at the screen.

It’s comfortable to lie here like this. His back along your front. Your arm draped over his waist. You can feel his giggles whenever the humor on the screen catches his fancy. Your legs tangle with his. It’s so comfortable that you could fall asleep like this. If he didn’t interrupt your dozing with apparently memorized lines. You wonder if every movie in that cabinet will be like this. And you find yourself not caring about that. Instead you just smile as he recites the next section of dialog with perfect timing and inflection.

* * *

He’s no longer bright eyed when the movie ends, but instead is a warm and cuddly puddle in your arms. He’s conscious enough to hit the appropriate buttons on the remote to cast the room into darkness but as soon as the remote is dropped off the side of the bed, he just burrows into your side.

“Aw, did I tucker the twink out?” you tease playfully, pulling the cover up over the two of you. He just nods against your shoulder and wraps his arms around your chest when you lay back. “You’re adorable.”

“Manly as fuck,” he murmurs sleepily back, not helping his image at all. You pluck his glasses off when they poke against you and place them carefully where they wouldn’t be crushed.

“Sure thing, sleep head. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

He nods again in agreement and throws one of his legs over yours. It’s been a while since you’ve slept with someone but never with someone this clingy. Or at least soft and clingy. Terezi was mostly bony elbows and sharp joints. You don’t know how many times you were smacked in the face with a thin arm being flung about in dreams.

This though, this warm soft John in your arms? This you could get used to.

You kiss the top of his head and let sleep overtake you.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of Dave's POV


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's POV start

While your pillow might not want to wake up until noon, you’ve always been a bit of a morning person. One reason your windows don’t have curtains. You like the way the morning light filters in. Some days you wish your apartment faced east so you could watch the sunrise but then again, the sunsets you see are worth it.

Though you didn’t see yesterday’s because you were having too much fun out on your bike. Out on a date on your bike. Out on a date with your crush who is still sleeping underneath you. In your bed.

You carefully push yourself up enough so that you can look at his face. It’s near enough that just the edges are blurry. You smile at the dash of freckles across his nose, where you can see the faint outline of his glasses around his eyes where his pale skin has been protected. His coppery red hair looks so soft and silky. You really can’t help yourself from running your fingers through it when he kisses you. And those lips, you sigh to yourself. You always thought they would kiss well and you are absolutely correct. They are even better than you imagined. And they way their pale pink gets flushed afterwards. Wow. How could he be more perfect?

And he’s still here. He actually stayed the night.

It’s more than you can say about some of your other dating adventures. Even the ones that made it to official status. You never liked waking up to an empty bed after going to sleep with someone warm.

But this seems to be working. Though it’s only been one night. You know he asked you out on another date but...

But what if that was just to cheer you up? But what if that was with the post sex glow going on? What if Dave wakes up and it’s awkward? What if he regrets it? Dave is probably wondering why you kept the sweatpants. And then why you were so nervous about telling him. What if Dave felt like you were pressuring him? Or that he thinks you were tricking him into it? What if he thinks the next date is just another set up for another booty call? Who has the full sex on the first date? What if he thinks you are a whore?

“Shut up.”

You nearly jump out of your skin when he speaks. You end up landing in a cool spot about a foot away from him, dragging the covers away. Dave just cracks an eye open and huffs in your direction. You watch as his now bare chest is covered with goosebumps.

“Shhhhhh. Too early. I can hear you freaking out and thinking too much. There is no way I’m properly waking up for at least another hour, so shush. And get back over here. My nipples are freezing.”

That gets a laugh out of you. You return to your previous snuggling position with the covers, making sure that he is tucked in properly.

“Don’t you have work today?” you ask as you try to ignore and forget where your previous thoughts were going.

“Like you don’t know my schedule, you li’l stalker.”

You think about it for a moment. “Oh right. Yeah, you got today and tomorrow off.”

“Yep. Now back to sleep before I fuck you to sleep.”

“That’s supposed to convince me how?” you ask playfully as your body awakens further at the suggestion.

“Arg!” Suddenly the covers are wrapped around your head as Dave has brought his arms up and has buried you under them. You giggle at his attempts to suffocate you and retaliate by finding his collarbone with your mouth. That puts a stop to the struggling and lets you move a little farther upwards to the crook of his neck. He doesn’t seem to mind that either. In fact, he doesn’t even complain when you shift to straddle his hips.

Oh look, he has a matching morning wood.

With a bit of rocking to share your discovery, he pulls his arms away and lets you up to where you can kiss his cheek, not wanting to brave the morning breath. One of your hands go down to start tugging down your sweat pants. He catches on quickly even for being sleepy and helps out. Maybe he just wanted his hands on your ass. That’s probably it.

You work next on his pants but can’t get very far. You growl somewhat in his ear at your frustration which produces an interesting reaction. You are about to do it again when he suddenly grabs you and flips you. The coolness of the sheets feels good across your shoulders especially when compared to the heat of him pressing down against you. Your hands follow his previous example and grab his ass under the borrowed sweats, pushing them down and out of the way.

The two of you moan as your dicks brush between you. You instinctively arch up against him and the sliding motion is just right so you do it again. He braces himself over you as he lets you thrust up against him. The pace is slower than last night but you had just been sleeping moments ago. Besides you are enjoying yourself and how his teeth pulls at your earlobe.

One of your hands finally leaves his ass and moves in between you to grab both dicks. It’s a little tricky because of your smaller hands but your piano fingers help and you think he appreciates how you make sure your cock heads are rubbing against each other each time you lift your hips.

“Fuck, John.”

“Not quite,” you reply breathlessly. He growls back at you and you can see why he liked it when you did the same. Your taunt gets his hips moving against yours getting closer to the act you are talking about. If it feels this good just frotting, you are looking forward to feeling it when it is sliding in and out of you instead of against you again. Though you are going to have be patient because you have no idea where that lube ended up and you don’t want to ruin the moment to go look for it.

Besides, even with him being half asleep and groggy, this is still going to get you off soon. And from the way he is panting, you think he is going to come soon too.

“John,” the way he says your name... It almost sounds like he cherishes it.

“Dave!”

Apparently that was the right thing to say because Dave is biting down on your ear and thrusting down at you irregularly as he curls over you. Two sets of cum splash against your stomach where your shirt has been pushed up.

“Well, that’s one way to wake up,” Dave comments when he gets his breath back, still hovering over you.

“You could have woken up shackled to an unfamiliar bed if I had just knocked you out at the dressing room last night and dragged you here. That was a backup plan.” It was pretty far down the alphabet thankfully for everyone involved.

“Hm...” he pauses to think about it, obviously still half asleep and now orgasmically addled, “the shackles could be fun, but the bump on my head I could live without. So I guess I’m glad your initial wooing tactics worked.” He flops over to the side to keep from crushing you. You take off your shirt and use it to clean up the fresh mess on your chest, tossing it aside just as he scoops you back into his arms. You suppose you could sleep in another hour or so.

* * *

You really have to get up the next time you wake up. Comfortable cuddle position or not. You manage to slip out of his long arms without disturbing him. You go about your morning business after grabbing a new shirt. It’s definitely a lot cooler without being next to him.

You end up in the kitchen making coffee, toast, and eggs about an hour later when he finally starts to stir. You watch as he reaches almost habitually towards the side of the bed. He frowns when he doesn’t find anything. You admire the bed head hairstyle even as he squints and frowns.

“Hey, as good as all that smells can I ask a huge favor before I openly admit that I love you for cooking breakfast?”

“Sure.”

“Where the hell did my shades end up?”

You glance around and notice them on the counter behind you. “Over here.”

“Oh yeah.” He stays sitting there, sleepily rubbing his eyes before he turns to look in your direction. You laugh to yourself before taking the food off of the heat. You pick up his shades and take them over to him. He closes his eyes and tilts his head up to you as you slide them onto his face. You lean down to kiss him before going back to the kitchen.

“Now what were you saying about me cooking breakfast?”

“That I am falling in love with you over making real food that smells amazing. I don’t really care that it’s before noon as long as you are making at least two servings.”

“I think it’s closer to like five or six servings if you go with the nutritional values.”

“Even better.”

He just sits there watching you as you finish, sliding the food onto plates. You carry both over to him and deliver them with a kiss before hunting down the remote. You turn on some cartoons before fetching your cup of coffee. He’s already digging in by the time you get back.

“So when do you want the wedding?” he asks with a mouthful of food.

“June. Gives me time to work on my dress.”

Dave laughs and bumps into your shoulder making you defend your mug. He thinks you are joking. You aren’t letting him near your closet. Thankfully he doesn’t follow up with any questions and the two of you just enjoy your breakfast and the childish shenanigans on the television. He steals a couple sips of your coffee and teases you for how sweet you have made it. He doesn’t complain when you kiss him to get some of the flavor back.

When the plates and mug are empty, you let him pull you back into the bed at least until the end of the show.

And then you kick him out of bed because he promised you a date today.

“Do you think I’ve come up with a plan yet for a date?” he grumbles as he pulls on his jeans. You just tilt your head and watch his ass disappear under his jeans. “Impromptu date ideas are not my forte.”

“Well, I mean, I won’t hold you to it if you don’t want to go out today,” you tell him, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. You knew it. You pressured him into asking you on a date last night. You’ll just drop him back off and probably never see him again. Because like hell you are going back to that pool and the chances of running into him on campus is slim and it’s such a big campus that you could hide.

“No, no, we are going out today. I just have to- oh. I know where I can take you.” You perk up at that and admire the way his abs stretch as he puts his t-shirt on. “But we are going to have to do a bit of car slash bike shuffling as my car is still at the pool. And I wouldn’t mind getting a fresh change of clothes. And I need to pick something up from my apartment for where we are going. Or at least one of the places.” You tilt your head the opposite way at this to express your interest. “Yeah. That’ll work.”

“Where are we going?”

“Couple places. It’s a secret. Gonna be secret date.”

“Hey.”

“No ‘hey’s, you dragged me out into the countryside to your secret make out point and secret dinner place on your hot motorcycle, I get to have my secret date stuff too.” You eye his ass as he bends over to put his shoes on. “Though my steed isn’t going to be nearly as nice. Shitty piece of junk.” He comes over to stand in front of you where you are sitting on the edge of the bed and offers his hand. “C’mon motor babe, let’s get moving.”

You grin up at him and let him pull you to your feet. 


	8. Chapter 8

It’s a quick fifteen minute drive to the suburbs where his pool is located. You make it in ten because you might have been showing off for him. You can’t help it. You like the way he squeezes you on the tight turns and how he cheers on the fast straightaways. The way he is breathless when you both pull off your helmets in the parking lot. You are a bit disappointed that he immediately puts on his shades because you really want to see those red eyes in the sun but he has his reasons you guess. The kiss makes up for it though.

“Okay part one of the car plan accomplished,” Dave calls out even as he reaches into his car for his bag. “Part two coming up,” he trails off as he fishes out his phone and starts clicking through the messages. You come up next to him and catch some of the messages from someone he’s named Bro in his phone.

hey li’l man  
u ded?  
u in jail?  
gay baby jail?  
dude  
answer your goddamn phone  
this is why i bought you this piece of crap  
seriously  
am i really gonna hafta eat this entire double pizza alone?  
RUNT  
WHERE R U?  
R U GETTIN LAID?  
U BETTER B WRAPPIN THE ANACONDA BRO  
ugh i drunk dont turn onthe lights when u get home

You snicker at the one sided conversation. “So when do I get to meet this ‘Bro’ and does he have an actual name? And is he your actual relation?”

“Never, no, and unfortunately. But seriously, you are hopefully never going to meet his creepy ass.” He runs his hand through his hair and you wonder at how bad it really has to be. He types out a quick response and then turns to you. “Pray that you never meet him.”

“I don’t know. He sounds interesting,” you tease just to watch the despair cross Dave’s face.

“No! Don’t even say that, John. Can’t even joke about it. You might summon him. I don’t know how his creepy ninja skills and voodoo work. And he’s not the sexy kind of ninja like me. Ugh.” Dave shakes off the thought. “Whatever. Come one. Phase two.” He kisses you and then ducks into his car.

“Race you,” you offer before he can close the door.

“You’d win hands down, you daredevil.”

“Gotta go fast.”

He laughs at you and closes the door.

He’s right though, you do beat him back to your place. With enough time to get your bike up to your parking level and meet him back down at the street. He stops long enough to let you slip inside. After you buckle your seatbelt you look around. And you find that you have to agree. This is a piece of shit. But it’s his piece of shit and you can tell how much hard work he’s actually put into its upkeep. And at the bare minimum it gets him from point A to point B.

Right now it seems that point B is right down the street at another apartment building. Did you really live that close to him? Wow, you really do seem like a stalker. And this one wasn’t even on purpose. In fact, your Dad picked the apartment. He’s helping pay for some of it. The rest comes from your part time job.

He pulls into an open lot unlike your apartment’s garage. As soon as he turns off the car, “Shit.”

“Huh?”

“I should have stopped by here while you were getting a speeding ticket back to your place so that I wouldn’t have to convince you to stay in the car while I go up. It’s the least chance for exposure.”

“Too late. Guess I’ll have to brave it.”

“Oh hell no.” He passes you his phone. “Have at it. You can play any music, you can play any game, you can send out defaming texts to my entire contacts list if that will get you to stay in the car.”

You silently consider it. When you unlock it and start looking through the applications, he considers that agreement and professes his thanks even as he climbs out of the car. As soon as he is out of sight you open up his contacts. Defaming texts aren’t quite your thing, maybe a fake facebook status or something though...

Surprisingly, he doesn’t have many contacts saved to his phone and a couple of them are the local food delivery services. A couple of them have weird names like Gamzee, Karkat, and Terezi. But then again you have a couple friends like that too. And you feel like you have heard Karkat’s name before. Beep beep meow. Nope, can’t place it. Of course Bro was at the top of the list. Oh and look, there’s a Rose. You know a Rose. Though it probably isn’t the same one. That’s a common name. And Rose is quite the uncommon character. Yeah, probably no chance it’s the same one. That would be ridiculous. Right?

Anyways, this contact list is sorely missing something critical and should be ashamed of itself for such an oversight. It’s missing your number. Just putting it under John would be too mundane. Sexy Twink Motorcycle Thug. Much better.

But now you are bored.

You know, you never actually promised him you would stay. You quickly get on his email and yep, there’s an confirmation email from one of the delivery places and there’s his address. Aren’t you the smart one.

Smiling and extremely proud of yourself, you set out to break into his apartment complex. Which really isn’t that hard as you are cute enough to get the sweet old woman to hold the gate open as she leaves. Okay looking for apartment 1403. You glance at the first door you see and it’s 101. So obviously that means Dave is on the fourteenth floor. So where are the- oh there are the elevators.

Whoever has messed with the speakers have some good taste even if the elevators seem to be threatening you with a plunge to your death.

You quickly exit without looking back. You’ll be taking the stairs down thank you very much. Okay, 1401, 1402, 1408, 1407, 1406, 1405, 1404, and finally 1403. Wow, those gouges in the wood look pretty serious.

You are about to knock when you hear voices coming from inside. Well, Dave’s voice.

“No! Not doing that! I’m on a date, fucker! Nope! Fuck shit! Get away from me you creepy douchebag. A date! You heard me the first goddamn time. He’s waiting outside. No, you are not meeting him-” The door opens on the last word. As Dave sees you, his eyebrows go high enough to clear his frames. You get a second to take in his new outfit, black jeans and a sunflower yellow shirt, as you hear the apparent sibling shout something back. “No, not outside the door here, why would he be outside the door here!” Dave shouts back. “Gotta go! Don’t wait up and don’t burn the apartment down!” He whirls on you, grabbing your arm with one hand as he slams the door behind him with the other. “Why are you here? Run, John, run!” he whispers harshly at you. You don’t know whether to be actually scared or just laugh in Dave’s face but he is dragging you down the hall nonetheless.

Just as you turn the corner, you catch his door opening again and get the sensation of a smirk appearing in the crack.

As you have decided as well, Dave drags you past the elevators and takes you to the stairs.

“Goddamn that was a close one. What were you thinking, John?”

“I got bored.”

“I have over eight gigs of music on that thing with at least twenty games. Even with my short attention span I can play with that thing for at least an hour and you didn’t last but five minutes!” Dave grumbles at you as the two of you jog down the stairs. Thirteen flights are a lot of stairs.

“You know, the more you keep him a secret and build up his infamy, the more curious I get,” you defend.

“Please can I take you on at least one date before you try to meet my crazy ass guardian. Because one of two things will happen. Either he will scar you for life and I’ll never see you again, or you decide to drop me for him, the stupid tall bastard with muscles that I will catch up with one day, I swear!” His words echo in the staircase and your heart twinges that he thinks you would change heart that quickly. “Fuckin’ asshole with his mind games and flashstepping,” he mutters under his breath.

On the next landing you grab his hand and spin him around to face you. Your other hand almost instinctively dives into his smooth red hair and pulls his face down to yours as you push yourself up on your toes. There is an odd package bumping your hip that you don’t think is his dick in his pants so you shove that aside as you walk him until he is against the wall. You continue to kiss him until the two of you are breathless.

“I didn’t spend all summer pining after your brother, Dave,” you tell him, catching his eyes behind the tinted glass. “And anyways he’s gotta be kinda old and I can’t really see how he could be better than you.” You feel your cheeks heat up but you see his cheeks turning red too under the freckles. “It’s not like muscle is the only thing I like about you. Plus, if you were much taller, I’d need a step stool to do this,” you hide your face against his neck because he kinda seems to like it when you kiss him there. You are intent on leaving a hickey there, a reminder to him that he is the one you have your sights on.

You notice that he smells a little like you but also a bit more like himself with the new set of clothes. You really like that. Enough that you are considering what sort of public indecency laws you would be breaking to have sex in the stairwell.

“John,” again you fall in love with the way he says your name.

“How busy are the stairs usually?”

“You horny little freak.”

“Not sorry. Is that a yes?”

“No, no, can’t traumatize the neighbors. I don’t know when Ms. Halley will be coming back from her grocery run and we are below floor eight.”

“We can go back up.”

He just groans at the suggestion. You know he is seriously considering it, but he finally pushes you away. “We have a date to attend. Then I’m going to fuck you into next week.”

“We can postpone it, I don’t mind.” You love the way the reddish purple looks on his neck.

“Look here, you little minx. If you would just let me get you out to one part of the secret date, I’m sure we can fulfill your apparent exhibition kink and that undying dick of yours.”

“Promise?”

“Fuck yes. Especially if it gets me out of this stairwell.”

You giggle at him and finally step away. You make a silly grandiose gesture at the rest of the stairs. You like seeing Dave having to compose himself before continuing on. A couple more flights down your ass buzzes. You pull out your phone but there’s nothing on it. That’s when you realize it was the other cheek. You pull out Dave’s phone and with a mischievous grin unlock it. A text from Bro.

i see ya lettin that jailbait chew on your neck.  
are ya gonna bang the shota in the stairwell?  
and ya call me the kinky fucker.  
ooooh maybe he bangs YOU.

You giggle at the messages which grabs Dave’s attention. He snatches the phone out of your hand and reads it as well.

“See? See, this is what I have to put up with. You’re an asshole, Bro!” Dave shouts up the stairs. His words echo but he gets no other response. With a roll of his eyes, the two of you continue down the stairs.

When you finally get to his car, without tripping and falling down all of those stairs thank god, he tosses the odd package that you have worked out to be a camera case into the back and you both get in.

“So where are we going?”

“I thought we went over this. It’s a secret. You don’t get to know until we get there.”

“Is it a waterpark?”

“What? No. Like I would go to a pool on my time off. Also do you see any swimsuits?” He glances over at you with a scowl and finds you grinning back. “No. No guessing. You’ll get yourself into trouble.”

“Would you punish me for it?” You flutter your eyes at him and he groans at you, knowing he walked into that one.

“Yes, you little kinky sex pot. Negative ten spanks per guess.”

“How does- hey- wait, that’s not fair! That’s not punishment!” you argue as you figure out his game. He just smirks with his eyes back on the road. You just laugh as he’s figured you out. “How many do I get to start with?” You watch him splutter in return but you drop the topic to you sit back in the seat and let him drive.

 


	9. Chapter 9

You watch the city pass by outside of the window. It’s only been a little bit since you’ve been a passenger. Riding your bike doesn’t give you much time to look at everything. Too busy making sure no one is trying to kill you with stupidity. So you guess it was probably in the jeep that you were last a passenger. And you probably shouldn’t be thinking about the jeep while on a date.

Your thoughts are thankfully interrupted when you feel Dave’s hand reach for yours, albeit blindly until you help him out. He doesn’t look down at all, but you catch a bit of blush across his cheeks when you glance over. You intertwine your fingers with his and wow he’s cool compared to you, but it still feels good.

“Are we there yet?”

“You are such a brat.”

“I know.” You squeeze his hand.

About fifteen minutes later he pulls into a very familiar parking lot. You try to hide your laughter but he catches some of the muffled snorts.

“Shut up. It’s a cool place I promise.”

“I know.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Please, lead the way.”

He shoots you a confused look as he parks in front of an old record store. It’s part of a historic looking strip mall, probably built while your father was still a kid. There are a couple other stores along the front and a couple apartment lofts above. You and your father actually looked at the one above the bookstore when you were deciding on a place.

You both get out of the car and he locks it behind you. You surreptitiously wave through the windows of the bookstore because you know it’s shadowy proprietor is watching you before you turn with him to enter the record store.

You are hit with a dusty plasticy smell as the chimes above the door announce your entrance. The very bored clerk waves a hand at Dave who is obviously a regular here as he confidently leads you further into the store, navigating around the racks like he could do so in his sleep.

“This is where the magic happens, John. This is where inspiration is born and harvested for my sick beats. They always have some good shit. It’s like my drug. Music and caffeine. I’m addicted and only want the best cuts which is what this place offers. At good prices too. Not a lot of promotions but that way they don’t have to jack the prices on anything else.”

You let Dave ramble as you glance around. The jumble of colors and signs don’t really make sense to you as a stranger though you’ve glanced at them several times before. You’ve just never stopped long enough to learn the system.

“So this is probably my favorite section. Great bass lines and vocals that make you shiver. A lot of lesser artists start grating on your nerves because of how often they are used but here there be gems.” You love how his face lights up as he is talking about his passion. “Like this one has a couple good tracks, and this one, oh man, the entire album is built well. I could listen to that hours on end. Oh! And this one,” he pulls you from area to area holding up different albums and setting them down almost as fast. You try to pay attention to all of the different names but are mostly impressed with how his mind has apparently categorized them and can keep them all separated. “Oh and this band is great, but they have a missing album. This store just can’t seem to find it and I’ve looked online but, nothing. I’d love to just hear it one day.” You make a mental note of that one. You have some old connections up in Seattle that are pretty deep in the underground music scene. “Sometimes I talk to the guys here and they find me some interesting crap from other sections, but that’s really hit or miss. So, what do you like?”

“I like listening to you.”

It’s fascinating watching his cheeks blush as if that was the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to him. He also got a little that way when he was telling you about his comic-turned-movie ideas. It just makes you want to compliment everything he does.

“I wasn’t talking about my rambling. I meant music, dork.”

“I’m the dork?”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

And he does, promptly and swiftly by pulling you into a quick kiss. Well, you think he intended it to be quick but it didn’t stay that way, not with how cute he’s being. His face is warm under your hand from blushing and like hell are you letting him off that easy. He can’t be that adorable and just get away with a quick kiss. Plus that wouldn’t shut you up properly.

The chimes from the front door startle you apart briefly and you are tempted to get back to the previous activity when you hear, “Finally.”

“Shit, shit, why did she- No.” You mumble against his shirt as you instantly place the smooth velvety violet voice.

“Rose?” Dave calls out over your head.

“John dear, it’s been a while.”

“John?”

“Looks like you finally set one of your schemes into motion, or should I say, one of your schemes finally succeeded in bagging the ‘hottie from the record shop’? Only took you all summer.”

“Wait. Rose- John- Rose, did you just call me a hot- what? Wait... John, you know her?”

“Yeah, she’s kinda my boss. I work in the bookshop next door. I started this summer. Which is when I saw you here, and oh god, I sound like a stalker and it’s going to get worse because Rose kinda pointed out your pool in my direction because she saw happened to see you working at a pool one day,” you turn around to face the blonde woman, “but now I am doubting that story because you two obviously know each other and I am betting you are the Rose in Dave’s contacts which means you are friends with him and you could have given me his number or at least introduced us the first day I saw him!” You stomp your foot in frustration.

“Yes, I suppose I could have. But what fun would that have been?” She smirks back at you. “Plus, you were so darn adorable, pining over in the romance and erotica sections-”

“I did not! Stop! Stop talking!” you splutter. You hear Dave laughing behind you. “No!”

“Dude, chill. It’s Rose. I get it. I’ve known this flighty broad for way too long. You just have to weather through her passive aggressive mechanisms and suffer being her source of entertainment until you can get out of range of her tentacles.”

“Dave, are you spreading rumors about me again?”

“Are they still rumors if they are true?”

“My dear brother, how could you say such horrible things against me?”

“You are her brother?”

“No. Not at all. Thank god no. Thank all of the gods no.”

“We are siblings in spirit, John. Ectobiology has brought us ectosiblings together.”

“Bullshit,” Dave sings out.

“Oh, why do you hurt me so?” Rose pouts dramatically. You decide this would be a great chance to pull some mischief. The scene is just begging for it.

“Yeah, Dave, why are you so mean to Rose?” You bounce over to her and all but dive into her embrace when she sees you coming. You could almost buy the sibling shtick with how Dave and Rose are both taller than you, smooth hair, strange colored eyes (though Rose doesn’t hide her violet ones), and lithe builds. Dave’s ginger hair suits him better though than blonde would and Rose does have boobs which is something Dave is missing you think as you press yourself against them. Her arms come up and settle lightly across your shoulders. One hand trails up to stroke your wild hair. It strikes you as very maternal and actually quite comforting. Giggling, you turn and look at Dave who is standing there with his mouth open. “Don’t be mean to Rose.”

Dave splutters in your direction for a moment before shaking his head. “Traitor! I knew it was too good to be true! You’re just some figment of my imagination and this is all some deep hypnosis dream that Rose has cooked up for me.” He falls to his knees, one upping Rose’s dramatic gesture, “How could you?” he laments with a shake of his fist.

“So,” your mischievousness is going to get you into trouble one day, “while you are down there, I never did get my quickie in the stairwell.”

The statement hangs in the air as the other two and the eavesdropping store clerk come to terms that you actually said that outloud. Then Rose has to let you go in order to double over in laughter, the hand over her mouth doing nothing to muffle the peals. Dave stares at you with betrayal across his face before falling all the way forward onto the ground.

“I’m done. Kill me now. I can’t show my face in this store again. I cannot live without my music, so just kill me now.”

Still grinning, you kneel down next to Dave’s head. “But I haven’t gotten to fuck your fantastic ass yet,” you half whisper to him as you pet his hair. You know Rose heard you from how she falls into another wave of ladylike guffaws. The store clerk is too busy trying to mind the front to pay you three any more attention. Dave just groans at you. “I have pined for that ass all summer, every time you would visit this record shop. I would misplace books because I was watching you.”

“Stalker,” he tells the carpet.

“Technically you came to my place of work first.”

“Until you started following me to the pool.”

“Okay, yeah, that was a bit stalkerish. Just a smidge. Maybe. Maybe a lot. But it was your siren-like ass that called to me.”

Dave looks up at you. “You really are trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

“Nope. Just trying to fuck you. And make you laugh. I like your laughs and you have a good smile.”

He rolls his eyes at you and you know it was a cheesy shot but it seems to have worked as Dave pulls himself up off the ground and pulls you into his arms. “Just don’t go falling into flighty broads’ arms again.”

“Wait. Are you jealous?”

“No. Well- No. Final answer. No.” Under his breath he adds, “Like hell I’m admitting that with her around.” You just laugh at him as he pouts and pulls you closer.

“Well,” Rose starts when she has caught her breath again. “I am glad I could give my blessings on this blossoming relationship, but could I spare John’s ear for a moment.”

“No,” Dave immediately responds, tightening his arms around you. “Unless it’s about work because I guess you are his boss.”

“It is not about work.”

“Then let me rephrase it. Hell no, you aren’t getting your slimy tentacles on my John.”

“Your John? Well I saw him first.”

“So what?”

“I called dibs.”

“You did not!”

“Did so.”

“You can’t call dibs on someone.”

“Can too.”

“Totally siblings. Holy shit,” you comment at their antics.

“We are not siblings,” Dave defends.

“Are you really disowning me in front of your beau, my dearest Dave? I’m hurt.”

“Oh no, you aren’t pulling that shtick again.” Dave crushes your head against his chest as you giggle. “Trick me once, shame on you; trick me twice, shame of me and I’m not about to be shamed in front of my boyfriend.”

The sharp intake of breath is totally involuntary when you hear that. You really hope he didn’t notice even though you are pretty sure Rose did because that’s just how she operates.

You do kind of hope that the slip makes this official because wow that would be awesome and all kinds of good and you are getting warm fuzzies thinking about it and you are pretty sure your face is blushing.

“Sorry, John. Oh god-” Your hopes and dreams fall crashing to the floor as you realize he noticed, “I just- It’s Rose- makes me ramble and- I mean- fuck. I wouldn’t assume and just- Oh god why did I ever get off the floor? I’m fucked-”

“No take backs, Dave. You meant what you said,” Rose cuts in.

“But-”

“No buts. Though I have to say both of you have cute butts,” you can imagine the head tilt as she looks at the two of you.

“Ew, gross. I mean, he does have a great ass and I’d like to call it mine and I’ve been a real douche bag calling it mine already seeing as I haven’t even gotten to take him to the rest of date, our second date only. I’m not sure I’ve properly swept him of his feet,” Dave rambles on.

“It’s cool.” You feel your face heat up again. “Um. Yeah, I’d like to be your boyfriend and your John and your beau and all of the other variations in between because I think I’ve been swept off my feet a couple times already.”

“A couple times?” Dave asks incredulously.

“When I first saw you. When you first rescued me. Each time you rescued me-”

“Enjoy playing the damsel in distress, dear?” You can hear the smirk in Rose’s voice.

“Shut up, Rose. When you let me take you on my motorcycle-”

“I’m pretty sure that counts as you sweeping me off my feet.”

“Shut up, Dave. And last night. Especially last night.”

“Do I get details?” Rose inquires, ever the gossip of your life.

“No,” you bite out quickly.

“At least not now. I’ll talk to you when you come in tomorrow for work, dear.”

“I quit then,” you panic.

“Not allowed. That contract you made was signed in blood. You are to work in my bookstore until all debts are paid.”

“What debts?” Dave and you echo each other.

“Don’t call me out on my literary metaphors,” Rose pouts. “But I still have that issue to discuss.”

“Too bad, he’s mine,” Dave argues. Then continues under his breath where only you can hear him, “And I’m glad I can say that.” Wow. Again wow. Those fuzzy feelings sort of bubbly up inside and make you grin uncontrollably. “So you really think I’ve wooed you thoroughly enough?”

You nod against him.

“Good.” Suddenly he lets you go and dips down, startling you back a half step which gives him enough room to literally sweep you off your feet.

You don’t think you’ve felt a sexier experience than falling into Dave’s arms as he half tosses you up bridal style so he can actually carry you. You are kind of glad that your positioning hides the sudden boner.

“Now if you’ll excuse us, my dear not-sister,” Dave addresses a very bemused Rose, “we have a date to continue.” And with that he sweeps along the record racks and carefully navigates the record door, making sure not to hit your head or your feet too hard. You are giggling all the way through, sending a happy wave goodbye to Rose before the door shut behind you.


End file.
